Don't Go, Don't You Dare
by LocoCoco300
Summary: Bakura and Marik start having "relationship problems" when Bakura brings up how he doesn't know how ready he is for love. Can they get through it, or are they done for good? Thiefshipping, maybe a bit OOC.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is something I've been thinking of for a little bit. It will have future chapters, so look out for those if you're interested.**

* * *

Bakura stomped up the stairs that led to his apartment on the third floor, fuming at the events that had occurred throughout his day. First of all, that annoying nitwit at his work wouldn't stop screwing everything up, jamming the copy machine and even at one point accidentally drenching Bakura's papers with coffee. On his way home, the idiot behind him had dented the bumper of his new car, and _now_ the elevator was broken.

_Just great,_ Bakura growled. _Just bloody great_.

He reached his apartment, bursting through the door and tossing his briefcase and coat to the side, not caring where they landed. He shared this apartment with his boyfriend, Marik Ishtar, who was currently lounging on the couch playing a video game. Bakura ignored him as he made his way into the kitchen and loudly poured himself a glass of water, drinking it, and then slamming the cup onto the table when he had finished.

"Somebody sounds like he had a bad day," Marik called from the other room.

Bakura merely grunted in reply before entering the room Marik was in, plopping down on the couch beside the blond.

"You wanna talk about it?" Marik offered, still focused on his game.

"Leave me alone," Bakura grumbled. He repositioned himself so that he was leaning against Marik's shoulder, eyes closed, exhausted from his busy day.

"That's kind of hard to do," Marik replied, smiling, "with you pushing into me like this, Fluffy." He blew some of Bakura's hair out of his face, letting out a small laugh as Bakura made a noise similar to a growl. "If you just want some attention, I can end my game now."

The Brit sat silent for a few seconds, not wanting to acknowledge the comment, but eventually he gave in with a sigh. "If that would be okay with you," he mumbled. "And if you don't mind hearing me complain about everything that's happened today."

"Nah, it's fine." He paused his game, tossing the controller on the floor before turning slightly towards his boyfriend. "Besides, I'm used to it by now," he teased.

"Oh, shut up and listen," Bakura said, but he couldn't hold back the smile that appeared on his face from Marik's teasing. After that, he went on to explain his devastating day in detail, his smile being replaced by a scowl. Once he had finished, he collapsed back onto Marik's shoulder, letting out a deep breath.

He felt Marik's arm wrap around him, pulling him just a tad bit closer, trying to comfort him. Bakura nuzzled the Egyptian's neck for a moment, feeling very tired but appreciating his boyfriend's concern. They sat like that for a moment, listening to the other's breathing, and Marik eventually rested his head on top of Bakura's.

"Better?" he asked, slowly rubbing his hand up and down Bakura's pale arm. Marik's brow was creased with concern, but he was sure Bakura would be fine soon. It wasn't like this didn't normally happen.

"A bit," Bakura responded, opening his chocolate-brown eyes to peer up at Marik. A smirk found its way onto his face as he climbed fully onto Marik's lap, taking the Egyptian by surprise. He positioned himself so that he had one leg on each side of his boyfriend, whose hands had instinctively wrapped around Bakura's back. Chuckling, Bakura whispered, "But I know something that'll brighten my mood even _more_."

The whitette leaned forwards slowly, smiling as he captured the blond's lips with his own. Not wasting a second, Marik kissed back with just as much passion as the man in his lap. His sun-kissed hands pulled Bakura closer to himself, getting comfortable underneath the other. Marik sucked on Bakura's lower lip, and he let out a small gasp when he felt Bakura's sharp teeth nibble on his lip. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Bakura slipped his tongue inside of the blond's parted mouth.

A moan escaped Marik, and he pressed their bodies even closer. They broke from the kiss, breathing heavily from lack of air, and Bakura kissed along Marik's jawline, down to his neck. Soon after, he readjusted and pushed Marik down on the couch, straddling the Egyptian's hips still. Their lips reconnected, and Bakura's hand crept underneath Marik's top, trailing up his abdomen to his chest. He pinched one of the blond's nipples, and he felt a shiver tremor through Marik's body.

Marik's lavender eyes were opened slightly as he reached for the hem of Bakura's shirt and tugged it up. Getting the hint, Bakura broke the kiss and allowed Marik to pull the shirt all the way off of him. Once it was off, he immediately removed Marik's shirt. He felt Marik's cool hands move across his chest admirably and watched as Marik pulled him down so the blond could kiss up his collarbone to his ear.

Bakura shuddered, and he shakily stretched his hands out to Marik's belt where he began to undo its buckle. Marik gently bit down into his neck, causing Bakura to bite back a moan, struggling with Marik's pants.

"Kura," said Marik in a raspy voice, his warmth breath hitting the whitette's ear. "I love you."

Bakura froze, his hands grasping Marik's buckle. He pulled back slightly, blushing profusely, but Marik put his hand on his pale shoulder to cease his movements. He stared up at Bakura expectantly, and when he didn't get a reply, he spoke.

"Aren't you going to say it back to me, Kura?" He blinked, wondering what was up with his boyfriend. Bakura remained silent, and Marik sat up on the couch, staring right into the other's eyes. "Kura?"

"I…I don't think I'm ready for that, Marik," Bakura explained, eyes flitting up to meet Marik's

Marik's brow creased, and he said, "Not ready? We've been dating for nearly a year now, I think you'd be 'ready' for a bit of commitment."

"It's not that," Bakura growled. "I just…don't know how I _feel_ at this point."

Marik's lips pursed. That wasn't what he was expecting to hear. "Bakura." The other lifted his head a little, noticing that Marik had not used his pet name this time when addressing him. "Can you explain a bit more?"

Bakura let out a heavy sigh, averting his gaze from Marik. "You know what I am. I'm _immortal_. If I fall in love with you, I'd have to watch you die, Marik, and where would that leave me? In even more pain and sorrow. I've gone over this with you before."

Marik nodded, knowing that was true. Still, he wished that Bakura would return his feelings. It hurt every time he was reminded that his boyfriend—his love—would never love him back, and he stared down at his lap. He grimaced as he realized what they had almost done. _What do I think I'm doing,_ he wondered, _giving myself—my life—my dreams—away to a man that refuses to love me?_ He turned away from Bakura, hiding his face in the couch cushion.

Bakura noticed this, and he rested his hand on Marik's shoulder. "Hey, Mar… You okay?"

"I think you know the answer to that," Marik retorted, his tone a bit sour.

Bakura frowned and used his hand to slightly massage Marik's shoulder. "Come on, Mar, you knew this whole time this might not work." Marik remained silent, so he went on. "And you know how hard this is for me."

"You don't think this is hard for _me_?" the blond shot back, his voice—though audible—muffled by the couch cushion.

"I meant how relationships were hard for me."

Marik grunted. "Well, _this_ relationship is pretty frickin' hard for me."

Bakura suppressed a sigh. He knew that, if he remained by his boyfriend's side, it would only make Marik angrier, so he stood up. Without saying anything back to Marik, he headed for their bedroom and shut the door behind him. Hopefully, Marik would calm down later. This always happened when that subject was brought up, but Marik eventually cleared his head each time.

He admit, he did have feelings for Marik. He wouldn't have went this far in the relationship if he didn't, it would be completely unfair. Could he ever voice those feelings? Not really, it was hard for him, after staying cold-hearted for so long. Plus, he wouldn't know what to say. He definitely wasn't in love with Marik yet, so he couldn't say, "I love you."

Bakura collapsed on the bed and released a sigh. _My day just keeps getting worse and worse, doesn't it?_

* * *

Marik lifted himself off the couch, a bit teary-eyed and upset, wiping his eyes with his arm. He threw his shirt back on and readjusted his belt and his hair before he headed for the door, grabbing his coat on the way out. He made sure to slam the door as he left, letting Bakura know that he was heading out and that he was mad.

Marik didn't know where he was going. He just knew he shouldn't remain at the apartment, or else he might fight with Bakura and make himself more frustrated. So for the time being he planned on wandering around to blow off some steam.

It wasn't too late out yet. The sun was slowly approaching the horizon, but Marik had plenty of time before he had to return home. He considered stopping by a bar, but he knew that that idea was a foolish one. Drowning his anger in alcohol didn't solve anything, plus he didn't want some creep to take a liking to him there.

He came up to a bench and halted, deciding to take a seat there. He leaned forwards, burying his head in his hands and choked back some more tears. _No, I can't cry about this_, Marik decided. _Definitely not in the middle of town_. Half-heartedly, he straightened back up and distracted himself by looking around him at passing pedestrians and whatever else he could find.

_Maybe I'm being a little hard on 'Kura_, Marik thought. Bakura _had_ informed Marik that their relationship might not work out, so it wasn't like he didn't get a fair warning. And Bakura was trying to keep their relationship going, which was all Marik could ask of him. For now. Of course, later on in their relationship, if Bakura showed no signs of love still, Marik would have no choice but to break up with the whitette.

Marik wanted to go home and apologize, but he also wanted to stay out a little longer. Secretly, he had the urge to stay out just to see if Bakura would miss him at all.

Pulling his coat tighter around him, he got up off the bench and walked down the streets of Domino with no destination in mind.

* * *

**A/N: So how'd you like it? But yes, there are future chapters, but seeing as I'm a slow updater, those could take a whiiiile for me to upload. So sorry.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Aaahhh sorry I take a little while to update! (oops) But here's the next chapter! I don't know how I feel about it, so review are highly appreciated!**

It had been about ten minutes since Bakura had heard Marik leave, and the Brit was still lying down on their bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wished he could apologize to the blond, but Marik had already departed. All he could do now was wait and hope that Marik would return, and then he could say he was sorry. If he was lucky—and if things ran the way they usually did when Marik got upset—his boyfriend would come home and everything would be back to normal. At least until they repeated the cycle and this happened once again.

Bakura decided that he should get up and do something; there was no point in sitting around moping. He got to his feet and exited the bedroom, heading towards the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he got a snack out for himself and sat down at the table. It took him a few moments to realize that he had been staring at the front door, awaiting Marik's arrival, and he scolded himself. He was supposed to be _distracting_ himself, not sitting around stressing about Marik still.

He stood once again after finishing his snack and entered the living room, picking up the controller Marik had discarded. Taking a seat on the couch, he noticed that Marik's game was paused instead of turned off, so he began playing where his boyfriend had left off. His mind was not focused on the game, though, so he wasn't doing very well.

With an angry huff, he threw the controller to the side and crossed his arms against his chest, leaning back into the couch cushions. Preoccupying himself was going to be much harder than he thought. As Bakura lied there, he thought that maybe he shouldn't keep his mind off of Marik. Maybe he should see if the blond was okay.

_But how am I going to do that? I'm not searching the whole damn town for him…_

Then he thought about the cell phone Marik had bought Bakura in case he ever needed it. Bakura had received the gift months ago, but he only used it for the first few days.

_I think it's in the bedroom somewhere,_ he thought, getting up and heading towards his bedroom.

* * *

Marik had been wandering around looking at some of the shops in town when his phone started ringing. Wondering who it could be from—he didn't exactly have many friends, and he had completely forgotten about buying Bakura a phone—he removed it from his pocket and looked at the Caller ID.

"Bakura – Answer or Ignore?" his screen read.

Marik halted in his tracks, taken off guard by the fact that _Bakura had called him_. He really wanted to push "Answer," but he didn't feel ready to talk to the Brit just yet. Clicking "Ignore," he immediately smiled at the thought that Bakura was worried enough to _call_ him.

_He's never done that before,_ Marik mused, resuming his walk.

He looked around him for something to occupy his time with, and his eyes settled on a nearby café. Deciding that a café would be a nice spot for him to calm down and gather his thoughts, he quickly entered the establishment and found a seat at a table.

A waitress came to take his order, and—after doing so—she left Marik to his own thoughts. His mind quickly wandered back to Bakura, and he fiddled with his hands on the table. He cringed when he remembered how he had left, and he prayed to the gods above that Bakura wasn't mad at him. Bakura was never reasonable when he got mad.

_I'm not too reasonable, either,_ Marik realized, chuckling to himself. His smile faltered, and he slumped down at the table, his head resting on his hands. _Oh gods, I hope I haven't ruined everything. I should have answered his call, just to make sure he wasn't furious at me._ He felt as though he could have screwed up their entire relationship with the fact that he keeps _pushing_ and _prodding_ Bakura to fall in love with him. Lost in his own trepidations, he failed to notice when his order of coffee and a small slice of cake was brought over and set in front of him until he lifted his head back up.

Lifting up the fork, he realized that he had lost his appetite, so he twirled the silverware around between his fingers. His phone rang once again in his pocket, jolting him out of his thoughts, and he pulled it out. Not surprisingly, the words "Bakura – Answer or Ignore?" ran across the screen.

Marik's finger itched to press "Answer," just as they had before, but he paused, letting his ringtone of "Bad Romance" play out a little longer. He really, immensely, longingly wanted to talk to Bakura, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Letting the phone eventually go silent by itself, he turned towards his order, and ate a bite of cake.

* * *

There was a loud _clunk_ followed by a curse as Bakura threw his phone to the side and it hit the wall. He wasn't mad, though; he was just nervous, very nervous, for his boyfriend was ignoring his calls. He was pacing, glancing at the clock every now and then. It was getting late, and Marik wouldn't answer his phone. Could he be in trouble? Or was he simply too furious to answer? The Brit didn't care which it were; he just wanted Marik home _now_.

He wanted this whole ordeal to be over with, the sooner the better. Unfortunately, it seemed that he would have to wait for Marik's return instead of being able to talk to him over the phone. Sighing loudly, he slumped down at the kitchen table, stealing a glance at the clock.

8:30.

_Marik better get his ass home fast,_ Bakura thought, kicking his feet up on the chair beside him. He hated waiting. When he wanted something, he expected it right then, which is one of the reasons he stole things. It was faster and easier than working his butt off for a meager wage and _buying_ the stuff, but lately, he had been stealing less and less. Marik had insisted that he got a job and quit his thieving habits, and of course, Bakura had obliged. For the most part

He'd do anything for Marik, Bakura realized. Well. . . at least there was no denying that he had feelings for the blond. Bakura fidgeted with his hands resting on his reclining chest, nervous and edgy. Whenever he heard footsteps approach their apartment, he lifted his head and sat forward in his seat, only to hear the footsteps pass their door and fade away. Each time he was disappointed, and each time he sank back further into his chair.

* * *

It was getting late. Very late, _far too late_. Marik was currently on his way to his apartment, but he supposed that he had wandered a bit too much, because he found himself on the far side of the city.

The worst part was, it was nearing 9:30, and while that may not be too late to be away from home, it was too late to be taking a walk in the dark city all alone. _Gods_, he wished he had answered Bakura's calls. Why did he stay out so late anyways? He had tried calling Bakura upon leaving the café, but he had been sent straight to voice mail. Had Bakura turned his phone off, annoyed at Marik for not answering his calls? The Egyptian wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

Glancing about him nervously, Marik rushed on down the streets, his feet _clomp_ing on the pavement. In hindsight, he would feel much more secure if he hadn't worn his cut-off lavender hoody, which was definitely drawing some attention from other people on the not-so-crowded streets. Hopefully, none of those people had any bad intentions.

Luckily for Marik, he caught sight of a taxi cab driving down the street he was on, coming towards him. Hastily, Marik held his hand into the air and stepped towards the street, catching the attention of the taxi driver, who came up to the curve and stopped in front of Marik.

The blond clambered inside, shutting the door behind him and giving the taxi driver the directions to his apartment complex. He huddled himself into a ball, his arms wrapping around his legs and his head facing the window, impatience and stress swirling inside of him. He had no idea how far or how long they had to drive—it shouldn't be _too_ long, since was merely walking around town—but he hoped he had enough money for the cab.

Shoving those thoughts to the back of his mind, he focused on calming himself down. _Everything will be okay_, he assured himself. _I just need to talk to Bakura, and then everything would be back to usual_.

Marik let out a sigh. _But was usual enough? Can I _really_ keep this relationship going at the pace we're "progressing"_?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm pretty sure that Marik and Bakura are maybe possibly a little bit OOC in this chapter? Meh, idk... But anyways, this is the last chapter! (It was a pretty quick fanfic tbh)**

* * *

Marik unlocked his apartment door and opened it quietly, slipping inside to find that the lights were still on. At first he was a little displeased by this, figuring that Bakura had neglected to turn them off and instead went straight to bed. Upon entering the kitchen, though, he found the real reason they were on. There, residing in a chair with his head on the kitchen table, was Bakura, fast asleep.

Marik halted in his tracks at the sight. _Why's Bakura out here? Was he. . ._ A smile spread across Marik's face. _Was he waiting for me to come home?_ Removing his jacket and hanging it on one of the chairs, he took a seat next to Bakura and looked at his boyfriend's sleeping form. Bakura's head was resting on the table, facing Marik, with his alabaster hair falling around his chin and across his cheek.

Lifting a finger, Marik brushed some of the hair aside, uncovering Bakura's face. He left his hand hovering by his face, stroking the spirit's pale cheek. Bakura looked much calmer when he slept, his scowl completely gone, but he didn't have his sarcastic, breathtaking smirk decorating his features either. Marik let out a breath of air, realizing how much he missed that smirk. He hadn't seen it that much today, unfortunately, and he couldn't wait to see it again. . . if Bakura could forgive him, that is.

He knew that he was overthinking things and that he was stressing himself out too much. Of _course_ Bakura would forgive him. He had stayed up late waiting for him after all. But worry still stung Marik's gut, and he couldn't be certain of anything. He felt as though their relationship was holding on by thin strings that were fraying more and more each day, and he didn't know how to keep them up any more. But he _wanted_ to keep this relationship going, he desperately wanted to, and he desperately wanted Bakura even more.

He leaned forwards and kissed the top of Bakura's head before he stood and turned towards the bedroom. As soon as he stood, he felt something brush by his wrist, and he turned to see Bakura meekly reaching towards his palm, too tired to grasp it properly.

"Don't go," Bakura croaked out, his voice and his eyes tired and pleading. "Stay with me a little bit longer."

Marik thought he saw a deep longing in his eyes—something he hadn't seen before—but pushed away the idea, deciding that either his mind was too tired or too desperate to know for sure. Obeying his boyfriend's wish, he sat down in his seat again, and held onto Bakura's hand. "I thought you were sleeping," Marik said.

Bakura propped his head up on his arm, his eyes struggling to stay open. "I was, but it's kind of hard to sleep when someone's tickling my face," Bakura joked, half-smiling at Marik.

He was usually asleep by now, seeing as he had to get up for work at four-thirty in the morning, so it was especially hard for him to remain awake and coherent. Marik, on the other hand, could stay up hours and hours after the Brit had fallen asleep. Generally during this time, Marik would play video games or lie next to Bakura in their bed, listening to his slow breathing.

Marik let out a small chuckle, relieved that Bakura wasn't mad at him. He still had something he wanted to say, though. . . . "'Kura."

"Mm?" he mumbled, his thumb rubbing Marik's hand soothingly.

"I'm really, really sorry about how I acted earlier. I was pushing it too far, and I should've known—" He was cut short when Bakura managed to lift his hand up and place a slim finger on his lips, efficiently silencing the blond.

"Sh," Bakura whispered, his finger not leaving the others lips. "It's not your fault."

"Yes it is," Marik insisted, his voice a little muffled, and the finger at his lips lowered and went back to supporting Bakura's head. "I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that. You were right—you _are_ right. Love is hard for you, and it was careless of me to do that to you."

Bakura was silent for a moment, his eyes closing, and Marik thought that maybe he was going to sleep again. Not long after that, though, Bakura's eyes reopened, staring up at Marik, and he sighed. "You had a good reason to confront me," Bakura pointed out. "We've been dating for a long time now, but it doesn't seem to you like we're making any progress. Is that right?"

Marik nodded, his gaze glancing away from the eyes of his lover, focusing instead on their holding hands.

"So if anything," Bakura continued, sounding more awake each second, "_I_ should be the one apologizing to _you_." He poked Marik on the nose, causing the other to giggle, and he allowed himself to smile. Maybe things were going to work out after all.

They sat there silently a few seconds more before Marik leaned his head on Bakura's shoulder, and Bakura wrapped his arm around his waist. "You feeling better now?" he murmured into the Egyptian's ear.

"Yeah," Marik replied, whispering, and then he proceeded to yawn.

"Hm, someone sounds sleepy," Bakura chimed, leaning closer to Marik until his head bumped against Marik's.

"Maybe that's because someone _is_ sleepy," he said, closing his eyes, succumbing to the temptations of sleep.

Bakura chuckled. "You shouldn't fall asleep out here. Trust me, it's extremely uncomfortable." He rubbed his neck, realizing just how sore it really was. "Why don't we go to the actual bedroom, huh, Mar?"

Marik mumbled something incomprehensible and wrapped his arms around Bakura's neck. "Carry me then," he whined, "because I don't want to _move_."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "You don't honestly expect me to carry you, do you? I'm far more tired than you, so if anything, _you_ should be the one carrying _me_."

Marik pouted and opened his lavender eyes, staring up at Bakura pleadingly. "_Please_, 'Kura?" Tightening his arms around the other's neck, he pulled himself onto Bakura's lap. He stifled a giggle when he saw the blush that was spreading across Bakura's pale face. "You don't have to carry me far. The bedrooms right there." He tilted his head to point in the direction of their room.

Bakura wanted to argue how that would mean that Marik could easily get himself to the bedroom without any assistance, but he stopped himself. Arguing was pointless; Marik always got what he wanted. Repositioning the blond in his arms so that he could carry him bridal style, he walked over to the bedroom and rested Marik on the bed.

"If you think I'm tucking you in, you're poorly mistaken," Bakura growled, but he didn't sound harsh. Lying down on the bed, he pulled the blankets over himself and felt Marik do the same by his side.

Unlike usual, he did not feel Marik's arms wrap around him before they slept. Missing the touch, he found himself inwardly wishing that Marik would soon turn to him and hold him, but that didn't happen. Bakura rolled towards Marik and pulled his body towards his own, his arms around the Egyptian's waist and his face buried in the other's neck. Marik let out a sigh of surprise, and he turned his face towards Bakura questioningly.

At first, Bakura did not respond. He wanted Marik to settle back down and sleep, knowing that the blond was safe in his arms. Marik did eventually turn his head away, trying to sleep, and Bakura let out a relieved, content sigh.

"Marik," Bakura murmured as sleep tugged at his mind more and more. "You know that I really do like you a lot, right?"

There was a pause. "I guess so." He sounded hesitant, unsure of himself. "I had my doubts. . . . It's not like you ever said that you did."

Bakura pulled Marik closer to him, his arms wrapped around the other protectively. "Well, I do. Definitely more than I've ever liked anyone else before."

Marik smiled at that, and he leaned into Bakura's hold. "I wish you would have told me earlier," Marik mumbled. "But I understand that that's hard for you. Still, a lot of this would've been avoided."

Bakura grunted in agreement. "Just promise me one thing," he stated. "No matter how hard things get between us, no matter how many times doubt may enter your mind, just know that my feelings for you grow each day. Even though I may not say them out loud, just know that they're there. And don't you ever dare leave me again."

* * *

**A/N: Asdfghjkl I have no clue what I think of this? I'm like... so sure it's OOC (but that's not necessarily a bad thing I guess)**

**I'm posting it anyways...**


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